The False Prince (Fall Of A King Book 1)

by Fuller, James

  "Whatever the cause or reasons Ursa has, the truth remains, King Borrack is dead, and Ursa and his apprentice have fled from the castle with a reluctant Princess," Dante said to those in the room. "Treachery is afoot - one way or another. They need to be found and Princess Nicolette needs to be returned - only she will have the full truth of what happened." Reluctant murmurs of agreement filtered through the room.

  "Thank you for joining us Rift," Lord Tundal said to Rift when he entered the library. "What news do you have?"

  "I searched the Kings quarters and found nothing to discount anything that has been said," Rift replied. "Though I found nothing to fully credit it either."

  "Where were you?" Berrit yelled, storming right up to Rift. "Where were you when she needed you? You are supposed to be her Champion…to protect her from harm! That is your sole duty in life and you were nowhere to be found!" Berrit hissed, mere inches from the larger man's face. "Now she is in the clutches of those heathens! She would have been safer in the Keeper's hands himself!" Berrit knew his words were like venom to the Champion - he needed them to be. He needed Rift to be angry enough to kill Ursa without question.

  Prince Berrit's words hit Rift hard - he grimaced noticeably from the truth of them. Nevertheless, he held his ground, squaring his shoulders. "I shall be leaving shortly - I will bring her back safely. Nothing will hinder me from achieving this."

  Berrit looked him hard in the eyes - he could see the man's rage at his failure and his need for redemption. "What if you have to kill them to get her?"

  Rifts jaw firmed. "I said nothing will hinder me!" He growled back.

  "Make haste then Rift," Tundal said. "Bring the Princess back to us, and Ursa and Meath if you can - if not, at least bring back the truth."

  Rift nodded in determination and took his leave, stalking out of the room, the Prince's words echoing in his mind, adding fuel to each step.

  "He would be better off to bring back their heads," Berrit muttered bitterly. "I swear, if they hurt her…"

  King Dante rested his meaty hand on his sons shoulder again. "We will get her back, and they would not be foolish enough to harm her," his father tried to reassure him. "She is their only leverage in this madness."

  "I knew we should never have trusted those beasts. They should all have been killed long ago," Bartan, Lord of Laquaco Cove muttered, folding his arms and glaring straight ahead is disgust.

  "We cannot judge all those with The Gift because of the actions of two," Tundal barked back. "We still do not know what the motives are or why they are doing this. They could very well have a perfectly good reason of which we are unaware."

  "When will you people see it? They are the work of the Keeper and can never be trusted," Lord Zefer spat. "Two of your so-called most "trusted" and "honest" Gifted just murdered your beloved King and abducted his only bloodline, to stop this treaty. How much more evidence do you need? You own men witnessed him doing so, with the Princess in tow, lest you forget."

  "It has been a long night and there is nothing further we can do. Let us return to our beds and try to get what sleep we can this night," King Dante cut in, seeing that the situation was about to escalate. "Tomorrow we will know more and the Princess hopefully will be returned safely and we can begin moving on from this tragedy."

  *****

  "I do not trust that Berrit. Ursa would never do this," Dagon whispered to Tundal, as they both knelt down in front of the altar in the castle's cathedral. A thousand candles burned brightly all around them in honor of the dead king, bathing the grand room in a prismatic glow.

  "I do not believe he would either, but one can never know for sure," Tundal sighed.

  "You do not believe that little whelp, do you?" Dagon said in shock, trying to keep his voice lowered.

  "I did not say I believed him, but what if he is telling the truth. There is so much proof against Ursa. Maybe Ursa has been planning this for a long time. Some say he can see into the future." Tundal looked around to see if anyone was listening, but there was no one close. "Maybe he was just waiting for the right time to strike."

  "Listen to yourself! This is not some common street urchin. This is our trusted friend. What does he have to gain from this? He is now a wanted man. If it was riches he wanted, he could just have easily robbed the treasury. But he would not - Ursa has never had much need for money and if he ever needed anything Borrack would have granted him the funds without question," The Lord of Mandrake said trying to keep his voice down. "Ursa is just as trustworthy as you or I. There must be something missing from the story."

  "I do not know my friend, but let us keep our ears and eyes open. If one of those Zandorians is behind this, I will personally whip their flesh from their bones," Tundal said rising off his knees and patting his friend on the back in reassurance.

  *****

  Nicolette gripped Meath's hand tightly, wishing with everything she had that he would come around. Under the thick canopy of jungle, very little starlight filtered through - leaving it in near utter darkness. She could just make out Ursa's form resting against a thick jauari tree. He had told her to try to sleep when they had moved off the main road to rest, that he would stay awake and stand watch - but she was sure the old Wizard had fallen asleep. She had not heard him move since he had sat down some time ago. All she could hear was the eerie night sounds of the jungle, making her heart beat quicker - she had no idea if the sounds were trees groaning in protest of their imposing weight or if a nocturnal predator was stalking in for the kill. All she knew was she would not be able to find sleep out here.

  Nicolette tightened her grip on the dagger Ursa had given her whenever she heard voices from the main road. She knew there were search parties, looking for them. This had been the third time she had heard a group pass by. She was sure the last team had found them when she saw a man's silhouette rummaging in the overgrowth holding a torch high. Thankfully, he had given up before he had gone any further or they would have been discovered. Ursa had assured her he had covered their trail adequately, and it would be near impossible to see in the night.

  Before the great Wizard had sat down to rest he had healed Meath's leg wound, knowing it would become infected and fester quickly out here in the humid jungle. Meath had begun to show signs of a fever by the time they had stopped, but now as Nicolette felt his head, it was no longer hot and clammy - showing the fever had passed quickly.

  Abruptly, Meath's eyes shot open, panic flooding through him. He leaped to his feet desperately, searching for his sword - or any other weapon that might be within reach. Then he saw Nicolette looking up at him and he fell to his knees. The throbbing in his leg finally hit him, adding to the agony in his head. His skull was hammering so hard it made his vision blur and his stomach turn so violently, he had to turn and retch on the ground.

  "It is all right Meath, we are safe," Nicolette whispered as she helped him back to where he had slept only moments before.

  "My head is killing me, what happened?" He mumbled rubbing his temples, trying to ease the throbbing.

  "Ursa said that you blacked out from using too much of your Gift," she explained. "I have never seen anyone use The Gift to kill," she shivered remembering the cries of the men who had died.

  "I have never experienced anything like that before. I have never before killed with my powers. I knew I would one day, but..." He trailed off staring into the shadowy growth of the jungle. Vivid flashes of what had happened came back to him. He had fought in several battles before and had killed with a blade, but using his Gift was so much more personal and violent.

  Even in the darkness, Nicolette could tell he was struggling with what had happened. "You did what you had to Meath. There was no other way."

  "I know. I just wish they would have listened to us! This whole situation is just so unbelievable."

  "Ursa wanted me to give this to you when you awoke," Nicolette said, remembering the vial Ursa had given her.

  Meath took the vial, broke the wax seal aro
und its cork stopper, and sniffed at its contents. "I do not think so." He put the foul smelling vial down beside him. "I will be fine… I just need this pounding in my head to end."

  "That is what the mixture is for, you adamant fool," said the prevailing voice of the one who had made it. Both their eyes went straight to where the old Wizard sat. He was staring at Meath, shaking his head in frustrated irritation. "I am astounded we are not dead with you two talking so loudly. Surely the soldiers could have effortlessly discovered us at any time with you two giving our position away with your babbling," Ursa said sharply, as he stood up and stretched his weary bones. He was still feeling drained even after several hours of meditation, but knew they better get moving now that Meath had regained consciousness.

  "Drink up Meath - we have to get moving. We will have to stay off the main roads and exploit some of the lesser used paths and tracks. There will be fewer individuals to notice us, for surely the rumors have travelled faster than we have this night," Ursa said, going to where he had tied the horses. He knew all roads would be patrolled by soldiers, but at least this way there would less risk of being spotted by citizens. The longer they waited, the harder safe travel would be.

  Meath picked up the vial again and held it for a few moments. He looked at it with a sour look on his face and then put the beaker to his lips, drinking the thick, green liquid as fast as he could.

  "That is vile - worse than the stuff you gave me to help me sleep!" Meath coughed, trying not to gag the pungent tasting potion back up. "You think you would try to make your potions taste a little better after all these years."

  "Why? I never tire of seeing that expression on people's faces." Ursa smiled back. "Now keep your voice down."

  "You are a cruel old man, you know that?" Meath stood up and noticed the pain in his head was already subsiding. Unfortunately, he could now feel the intense burning from the force-healed wound in his leg.

  "How are you feeling, Master Ursa?" Nicolette asked as she went toward the horses with the blankets they had used during the night.

  "I am fine Highness - a little weary but I will manage just fine…and please, call me Ursa. That title always makes me sound older than I care to believe." He winked, handing her one of the water skins.

  "You may also call me by my name and not my title," she said, after taking a large gulp of the stale water. The events of the night and lack of any sleep made her gaunt and pale.

  "I will try to do that, my dear, but I am old and set in my ways remember?" Ursa replied. "Meath, what is taking you so long? We have no time to waste."

  "My leg hurts!" Meath snarled back, as quietly as he could. When he tried to go faster, he stumbled and fell - the muscles knotting up in his thigh. Quickly Nicolette went to his aid, letting him use her for support.

  "Your leg is just stiff and your mind believes it is worse than it is. You know how wounds work when they have been force-healed," Ursa explained. He patted his horse's strong neck, being sure it was calm before he tried to lead in anywhere in the dark. He looked back at Meath and the Princess and could not help but smile at the affection the two possessed for each other. Even at such a dire time as this, he could see it…it could never happen between the two, but Ursa always wished it could have.

  They slowly led their horses out of the dense growth in silence and onto the road that they had abandoned hours before. The horses seemed eager to be out of the confinements of the growth and out in the open once more. The small amount they had been able to graze seemed to have been enough to perk the beasts, though without proper feed and water, they would not last the hard day ahead.

  "A few miles up the road is a three-way junction, one that leads south-west to Drikis City, one, west to Darnan, and the other northwest to Sheeva City. We will take the northwest fork. There is an old hunter's trail that cuts through near Darnan. It will be the safest way to get there without the inconvenience of exposing ourselves much," Ursa explained. "Hopefully it will also confuse those who are following us as to our destination."

  "They will have a road block at the junction," Meath told him, knowing the protocol that would be used to impede them.

  "Yes there will be, I am sure of it. We will find a way around it. I do not want to have to kill anymore misled men," Ursa sighed. "There has been far too much blood spilled, and I fear there will be much more before this is resolved."

  They travelled as fast as they dared through the morning dawn - Meath's eyes kept darting from side to side and then behind them, making sure no one was coming. It bothered him that they had not passed or even seen any other travelers. It gave him an eerie feeling inside, as if someone was watching them. He knew regular travelers would be light today. The roadblocks would deter a lot from traveling if they believe there was danger about, or if they had something else to hide. Chances were though, if they were seen by anyone it would be trouble.

  Meath looked over at Nicolette and saw she was looking back at him. He could not help but admire how strong she had been through all of this. For he and Ursa this was easier-they had been trained and were prepared for battle, fear and betrayal. Nicolette was not. She was a Princess and should never have been put through anything like this.

  Twice they had to stop and hide in the growth of the jungle as travelers passed by - both times talk of what had happened carried to their hiding places. Ursa's face became grim each time, before traveling on when the coast was clear.

  "We need to stop," Meath called forward to Ursa, who was already slowing his horse.

  "What is it?" Nicolette asked, worry edging her words.

  "The roadblock is just up and around that next bend. We will have to lose the horses and cut through the jungle to get around them safely." Ursa dismounted.

  "There might be hidden sentries off the road in the woods," Meath told them. "We will have to keep alert."

  "Bring the horses over here," Ursa said, cooing his horse down into a laying position behind a large section of dense ferns and trees. He poured a yellow powder into his water skin and shook it well, then gave the horses each their share. "It would not serve us well to have royal guard horses grazing around."

  "What is that?" Nicolette asked, pointing to the water skin.

  "It will make them sleep for several hours," Ursa replied, "more than enough time for us to be long away from here."

  Silently as they could, they crept through the jungle several hundred paces from the road so that they would not be seen or heard. They stopped every so often to listen for any indication that they had been caught.

  Meath eyed everything like a starving hawk. Any movement or change of shadow and he was aware of it. His hands tightly gripped the handle of the jeweled, sword so hard his knuckles were white. They were halfway past the roadblock and could vaguely hear the murmurs of the many soldiers on the road.

  "We have to stop and take a break…my leg is killing me," Meath whispered finally. He did not want to have to rest, but the pain in his leg was causing him to stumble and they could not afford to be heard. They stopped and hunched down close together.

  "I have not seen any signs of hidden sentries," Ursa whispered, not taking his eyes from the overgrowth.

  "Me neither," Meath replied massaging his sore leg hard. "But that does not mean they are not there."

  After a few more moments, Meath stood up and indicated he was ready to continue. They started slipping through the dense ferns and vines again, when Meath noticed a overgrown root sticking out of the earth. He was about to warn Nicolette but he was too late. She cried out instinctively as she lost balance and crashed forward - rustling and breaking branches as she went to the ground. Ursa and Meath stopped immediately their senses perking for any notion that they had been discovered.

  Meath heard a distant crunch from behind them and knew a sentry was coming to investigate. "Someone is coming!" He whispered urgently, helping Nicolette up. She looked up, her eyes glistening with apologies.

  They picked up their speed and trudged hast
ily through the thick jungle, still doing their best to keep silent. However, Meath knew they would not be able to avoid a confrontation. "Slow down but keep going. I will catch up," he instructed them.

  "What? Are you daft?" Ursa cursed softly, turning to glare at him but it was already too late - Meath had turned off their course and was already gone.

  "Where is he? What is he going to do?" Nicolette cried softly, looking from where Meath had just been to Ursa.

  "He is being a soldier," Ursa grunted, pulling her along, their pace slower, just as Meath had told them.

  Meath watched as the sentry stalked within a stone's throw behind Ursa and Nicolette. He was camouflaged fully, from head to toe, and blended well with his surroundings, which was why they did not see him before. His steps were precise and swift as he closed the gap on his targets. He held a crossbow steadily in his hands, a bolt locked and loaded as he tried to get a clear shot, but he was still too far off. At his side was a short sword and several large throwing knifes.

  Meath slowly moved in behind the sentry, mimicking his enemy's every movement. He knew he had to be quick and accurate in his attack - he had to kill him silently so he would not have a chance to make any sound and alert the others.

  The sentry stopped again and began to take aim - Meath knew he had only heartbeats to act. He sprung forward at full speed, his sword aimed for the sentry's heart. He lunged forward for the kill but the sentry rolled off to the side in a burst of speed. Meath then realized he had been baited - the sentry had always known he was behind him. Meath tried to recover his steps but he was already too far committed to stop, and he plummeted down in a sideways roll coming up on his knees. He turned just in time to see the sentry leveling his crossbow for his chest. Instinctually, Meath released his Gift and flames consumed the crossbow's cord before he could pull the trigger. It snapped loudly, licking the sentry's face deeply, but if he felt it, it did not show.

  The sentry exploded forward, daggers emerging out of nowhere into his hands. Meath could not rise to his feet before the sentry was on him. Daggers flashed and sliced, frantically trying to bite into Meath's flesh. Meath fell backwards, barely avoiding his throat being slashed by the wild, violent swings. He kicked his feet hard, smashing into the enemy's knees, tripping him forward. Meath got one of his legs up fast enough and slammed it as hard as he could into the sentry's chest, cracking ribs and knocking the wind from his lungs while launching him backwards.